


Magical Bonds

by NessieFromSpace



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Farm/Ranch, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, He moves in next door to grump Jack, Human Rhys, M/M, Rhys has a magical arm and eye, Werewolf Jack, elf August, elf Fiona, elf Sasha, elf Wilhelm, elf queen Yvette, evil elf Vallory, explicit for future sex, human Scooter, werewolf Athena, werewolf Janey, werewolf Tim, werewolf Vaughn, werewolves vs elves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-05-19 04:32:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19349569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NessieFromSpace/pseuds/NessieFromSpace
Summary: A mysterious neighbor moves in next to Jack's farm. At first Jack's annoyed about his end of his peace and quiet, then he's annoyed because the neighbor's crops are growing twice as fast as his in a few weeks and he planted his months ago. Who and what is this stranger doing in a town full of werewolves?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My contribution to the rhack big bang!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pictures in this chapter by:  
> C0njidraws: https://c0njidraws.tumblr.com  
> 

 

Jack’s day started normal enough. He woke up, stubbed his toe, broke his alarm clock and burnt himself when he made coffee. He grumpily drank it, now holding a personal grudge against his favorite drink. He sipped it as he cut fresh herbs and chopped fresh vegetables, all from his garden, for breakfast. The only thing not from his garden were the store bought eggs. He didn’t have chickens, nor the patience for them. He hated chickens.

He ate his omelet on the porch, enjoying the nice, quiet, solitary of his farm in the morning sun. He had neighbors, but they were miles apart and never spoke to each other. There was only one farm close to Jack, tucked against the forest that stretched over the mountains. The house next to him was spitting distance apart separated by a fence, but it had been unoccupied for years now. Jack loved the peace and quiet he had. He hated nosy neighbors, or loud neighbors, or neighbors with a lot of traffic in their home, or neighbors.

Which is why he glared as a car pulled up, followed by two large trucks, with a trailer.

“Shit.”

He watched as they came to a stop. A man stepped out of the car and looked around, a large, idiotic smile on his face. He grinned wide at the house, at the property, at the movers, and at Jack. When he spotted Jack, he waved. He was tall and extremely thin. Too thin for Jack’s taste. Not that he had a taste for this idiot.

Grunting, Jack stood and went into his house. He scarfed his breakfast down, swigged his coffee and grabbed his keys. He was going into town to buy a new alarm clock. Grumbling to himself, Jack slid into his truck and turned out of his drive. The drive was peaceful at least, though he was beginning to worry it wouldn’t be so. The town was practically a ghost town today. There were no people milling about and no cars on the sides of the streets. This town was too small for it to be empty. They had all seen the newcomer, then. Sighing heavily, Jack pulled up to the diner busting at the seams with the townsfolk and went inside. Everyone and their brother were there, crowding it, their nonsensical chittering filling up what little space was left in the building.

“Jack!”

He looked in the direction of the voice and found his brother, Timothy, who sat in the only unpacked booth. Jack sat, glad it was just the two of them. He eyed Tim suspiciously. “You here for the gossip, too?”

“I was eating breakfast and all of a sudden, everyone swarmed. I’ve been stuck here all morning.” Timothy leaned forward. “I mean, after the excitement of Vaughn moving back, everyone was just settling down. Now the stranger’s got all their panties twisted. Oh! Speak of the devil! Vaughn!” Timothy waved the man over.

Vaughn slid next to Tim. “Hey, wow, I did not expect this many people to swarm today. I just wanted to get some food.”

“They’re all twittering like idiotic little birds over the new guy,” Jack growled.

Vaughn smirked. “New guy, huh?”

Tim leaned in. “Yeah, he just rolled into town this morning. Has everyone spooked, ya know, with him being human and all. What will a town full of werewolves do with a human there?” Tim shook his fingers mockingly to emphasize how frightening the whole thing was.

“Right. Because there’s never been a human here,” Vaughn rolled his eyes.

“He’s going to ruin our monthly runs!” someone in the crowd said.

“Cause he’s going to randomly decide to walk out to the woods in the middle of the night on a full moon to look specifically for larger than normal wolves,” Vaughn called back, frowning.

Jack grunted. “Don’t bother, Vaughn, they’re all just paranoid sheep.” He stood and left. He didn’t have time for this and the longer he stayed the more he risked the chance of everyone finding out this new idiot had bought the house next to him. Then Jack would never be able to leave the diner. He’d be swarmed by the pack, buzzing and bouncing with questions.

He went to the store and bought a new alarm clock. There was only one cashier there. An old woman named Margaret. She smiled at Jack. “Much too old to worry about a human moving in. There have been humans moving into this town for centuries.” She shook her head. “It’s not a new thing and they always end up mated to one of us. It’s always just a matter of time.”

Jack grunted.

She eyed him. “I see. Bought that house next you, didn’t he?”

His eyes snapped to hers.

Margaret waved his concern away. “Oh, don’t mind me! I’m just an old coot who can barely run this thing…” she pointed to the cash register, which she had used perfectly. She winked at Jack. “Yep, just an old, silly woman with her old, human husband.” She chuckled. “I remember when he moved in, right next door to me, too. But don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll get by unscathed.” She smiled knowingly at him.

Jack frowned and grabbed his things.

“Say hello to him for me!” Margaret called.

He ignored her.

* * *

Rhys directed boxes into the house. _His house!_ He had never owned a house before. He followed the movers inside and looked around. It was a nice sized house. Four bedrooms, two and a half bathrooms and the acreage was more than he could ever dream of having. More than he’d been able to afford normally, but he’d had help. He smiled to the movers as he held the door open for them.

They bowed to him as they passed, acknowledging their respect for him once more. It was unnecessary, but Rhys let them do it anyway. It wasn’t until he realized they were staying in the house that Rhys realized they were also unpacking his things.

“Oh! No need to do that! I can manage just fine!” He said, going to them. 

They stood, bowing. “We are here to help you.” They did not move.

“Right…” Rhys laughed nervously, backing away. He quickly went to Fiona, the elf supervising everything. “Uhm,” Rhys said, in a slight panic. “Hi!” he said, though he’d spent all morning in the same car as her. “They’re, uhm, they’re unpacking my things?”

“I am aware.”

He was exasperated. “But, but… That’s a little unnecessary, isn’t it? You guys already packed everything at the old place, now you’re unpacking it?”

The smile she gave him was forced. All elves gave off a warm, yet distant feeling as though in a dream. Fiona, however, was not like this. She made little effort to hide her annoyance at him or her opinions of him. It was honestly refreshing to Rhys. She didn’t bow to him, or pretend she liked and trusted him, a human. She was honest and it kept Rhys afloat in all the fog the elves created. Fiona watched as more elves moved things into the house, stopping to bow to him. “Rhys, you are the first human to be held with such respect and importance. If you were to ask them to kiss the ground you walk on, they would gladly do so.”

Rhys jumped at her. “Shh! I don’t want them to think that’s what I want! That’s really creepy. I would never ask them to do that!”

“I know.” She looked at the elf around her sadly. “But they would. Not only did you save our elf queen, but you saved our herd, which is of far greater importance than the queen. And you were almost fatally injured in the process.”

Subconsciously, he rubbed his right arm. It felt like a normal arm. Even looked normal, because the illusion told his brain it was, but he knew it wasn’t. It was made from an ancient tree, its branch had been grafted to his shoulder once they’d removed his useless flesh arm. His eye, though still intact, was blind now. Not even their best remedies had been able to heal it.

He had recovered slowly, with his best friend, Vaughn, caring for him, in the elf home. It had been a first for a werewolf to stay there and live to tell the tale, but Rhys had made them promise not to hurt Vaughn. In the end they had taken so many oaths not to divulge the whereabouts or speak of anything they saw, it had been exhausting in itself. And though he was extremely happy to have helped as he did, it was beginning to get ridiculous. The elves were always looking for ways to be helpful. Always.

“They will leave when you are unpacked.”

Rhys sighed, returning to the house to attempt to help in any small way he could, but they would not let him. They kept running over to him, snatching whatever was in his hands and bowing until he left. He felt useless just standing there and watching, so he went to his car, instead, finding the other half of his sandwich. He nibbled on it as he leaned against the car.

One of the larger elves passed by. He eyed the sandwich as he brought a couch in all by himself. He was an older elf, and on of the largest beings Rhys had ever seen. He was one of the only ones who allowed all the scars and wounds from battles show. Where most elves preferred to appear ageless and flawless, this one seemed to revel in his battle scars.

“What?” Rhys frowning.

“You eat that junk?”

Rhys scoffed. “I’m moving, I didn’t have the things I needed to make one myself.”

The man grunted and mumbled something about rotting insides.

“Wilhelm,” Fiona called. “Let me help you.”

“I’m not a human, I can get it in the house.”

“Of course you’re not, but the furniture is large and clumsy and you cannot see what’s in front of you.”

Wilhelm, grunted. “I got it.” Fiona followed him to the house, stepping in front of him to help direct him. Wilhelm stumbled, trying not to hit her or anyone else. Rhys winced, watching the couch crash into the wall.

“Dammit, Wilhelm!” Fiona demanded. “I told you you needed direction!”

“It only happened because of your _help_!” he growled.

Fiona glared at him. “Well, I promise to leave you be while you fix this mess!” She turned from him abruptly and walked away.

Wilhelm thrust his middle finger at her.

“You can also help repair anything else on this farm as Rhys needs. I’ll let you know when you can return to The Forest!”

“What?” Rhys and Wilhelm said together.

Fiona paused to smile at both of them. “Wilhelm will be your new _farm hand_. Use him as you see fit. Now, I will be back in an hour. Do not make more of a mess.”

* * *

Fiona could not believe the incompetence she had to deal with. She took a breath as she walked up to the tree they were using as a portal. She tried to relax her shoulders, elves should never be this stressed, yet she always seemed to be. It was true she was even more uptight these days, managing both the move of the human and her job as the royal guard.

Stepping through the tree, she instantly appeared on the other side and welcomed the familiarity of her home. She loved it and always hated leaving, but she would do anything her queen asked of her. 

The queen’s house was in the center of the elven woods and would be a walk, but it would give Fiona time to check the defenses. She made a perimeter check, quizzing each guard before moving on. When she was mildly satisfied and could no longer procrastinate, she made her way to the royal palace.

Her heart pittered in her chest as she walked up the main stairs to the front door. She swung them opened and listened for the voice that gave her all the comfort in the world.

When no sound was heard immediately, Fiona went further inside, checking the queen’s favorite places. The balcony was the first stop and she spotted the queen, sitting at a table at her favorite spot.

She turned at the sound of Fiona and stood, her dark skin soaking in the sunlight that slipped past the trees. She stretched her arms wide, grinning from ear to ear. “Fiona!” A flush spread across Fiona as the queen embraced her. “I’ve missed you!” The queen then held her at arm's length, inspecting her. “I see you’ve gotten some sun, it’s kissed your skin in a very delicate way,” she winked.

“M-my queen!” Fiona hissed. “You can’t talk like that!”

“Of course I can!” she leaned forward, “I _am_ the queen. And please, I’ve asked you to call me Yvette. Only my mother liked to be constantly reminded she was the queen.” Gently, Yvette captured Fiona’s chin and tipped it up to get a better look at her. “Being sun-kissed does look amazing on you.” Her voice was incredibly soft as she smiled sadly. “Now I’m jealous of the sun.”

Fiona took a small step back. “It is unfit for the queen-”

“To love whomever she wants?”

“I am no royal, my-”

“Yvette. _Please_ , Fiona.”

There was something in the queen’s voice that caught Fiona off guard. The queen _was pleading._ It was a raw emotion, something elves hardly ever dared to show.

Taken by how vulnerable her queen was Fiona swallowed. She had always felt addressing the queen by her name was too intimate, too personal and would encourage other intimate things. But Fiona loved her queen and would do anything she asked. “Yvette… It would not suit you to be with a street rat.”

Yvette frowned. “You are no street rat! There’s no such thing in the elven world!”

“But I might as well have been one. I was an orphan of disgraced parents. It was only by your kindness and forgiv-”

Yvette turned away from her, waving an uncaring hand. “Enough of this! We always have this conversation. Come, have tea with me.”

Fiona followed the queen to the table and sat down. A tea was brought to her a moment later. She quirked a brow. “Did you know I was coming?”

The queen’s smile was mysterious. She took a sip of her drink. “I told you I missed you. You always know when I need you.”

“My- Yvette-” A scent reached her nose just then. Fiona eyed her queen’s drink. “That does not smell or look like tea.”

With a shrug, Yvette sipped it some more.

“It’s coffee, isn’t it?”

Laughing, Yvette set the teacup down and laid her hand on Fiona’s. “You know me so well. I had Rhys bring me some. He gave me something he calls a French Press. It lets you make it like tea, using boiled water and steeping. He said I should try it with cream. It’s amazing! You should try some!”

Fiona scrunched her nose. “That’s human-”

“Nonsense, we’ll make it elven!”

“I don’t think so, Yvette.”

The queen smiled and stared for a long moment. She smirked wider. “You haven’t pulled away from me.”

Fiona jumped. She _hadn’t_! She always did! Always paid more attention and always tried to dissuade the queen’s advances. She blinked at their hands, still touching. “I guess… I guess I’ve missed you too…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My tumblr: http://nessiefromspace.tumblr.com/  
> My Borderlands/ fanart tumblr: https://nessiesspeakeasy.tumblr.com/  
> My old Borderlands tumblr: http://nessiefromink.tumblr.com/


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pictures in this chapter by:  
> Starfruitspice: https://starfruitspice.tumblr.com

As the week passed, Jack watched as the new guy and the random big guy set up the farm. The big guy was building a cabin further down the property, next to the forest. Jack had only had a day of peace before the town had figured out where the new guy was living. It meant Jack was constantly bombarded by visitors.

This morning, instead of making coffee and breakfast like he always did, he marched down to the entrance of his drive, a sign, nails and hammer in his arms. He nailed it to the front post just as a car was slowing down.

A woman, Sandy, rolled down her window and pointed at the sign, huffing loudly. “That’s not very neighborly.”

Jack glared at her. “The only reason I’m getting visitors is to gawk at the new guy. None of you want anything to do with me.” He hammered in the last nail. The sign read ‘NO VISITORS’.

“Nonsense, Jack! I came to bring you food.”

“No.”

Sandy glared. “You are a bitter, old, prune!” And she wheeled around, peeling out and almost hitting Jack. She flipped him the bird as she left, spitting gravel behind her.

Jack grunted and walked back up to his house. When it came in sight, his eyes drifted to the big guy, who was building something a foot away from the fence separating them. It looked like a coop. _For chickens_. Jack stormed over there. “Hey!” he called.

The big guy ignored him.

Jack leaned over the fence. “Hey! That had better not be a chicken coop! Don’t even think about building one so close to my property!”

The big guy looked at Jack as he hammered chicken wire to a post.

Jack glared and stomped away. He grumpily made his breakfast and coffee and watched out the window at the big guy and then the new guy. He was tall, fairly muscular, and stupidly peppy. He helped the big guy with the coop, smiling and chatting with him. The big guy kept silent, but nodded occasionally. Jack grumbled to himself. What was a stupid, cute thing from the city doing on a farm? The big guy fit the place perfectly, but the new guy? He was in over his head.

Jack found himself watching them, taking his food out to the porch like he always did, except he continued to watch long after his food was gone. He was there when the chickens came. The new guy went to the vehicle transporting them and opened the door to the ramp. Several feet away from the coop. Jack started to get up to yell at the idiot, but the chickens did not run wild. They made their way, _in a straight line_ , for the coop, clucking to each other. They entered their large coop without any fuss. Jack frowned. Chickens were never, _never_ that uniform. They were stupid, flightless birds. He sat back down and frowned at the scene. Who was this new guy?

Throughout the next week, Jack found himself checking the chickens, or just standing there stupidly as he watched the two. They worked on the farm, patching fences, repairing parts of buildings, like the one in the front door.

It wasn’t until Jack made his coffee one morning that he heard a commotion. He growled and stormed outside, where he was instantly pelted in the face by a body of feathers. Jack batted the chicken away, sending it flapping off his porch. He stared in disbelief and horror at all the chickens running around on his property.

The new guy ran after them, calling to them. “Hey, Annabelle! Get back here! Mary, you get back to the coop!” He scrambled this way and that, catching all the ones that were too far away and tossing them towards the fence. They flapped their wings, safely gliding to the ground and returning to their coop.

“Nana! Don’t you dare go into that garden!”

Jack whipped his head, fully intending to kill a chicken, but the dumb bird turned away, waddling in a different direction, leaving Jack’s garden alone. _What kind of birds were these?_

“Beatrice! Go and bring Nana back!” the man called, jumping through the air and catching another chicken. He hurled it through the air to the coop, where it flapped its wings haphazardly and gently floated down.

The chaos swarmed around Jack and he had no idea what to do. “WHAT THE FREAKIN’ HELL IS GOING ON HERE?” he yelled.

“I’m so, so, so, so, so, sorry!” the man called. “I don’t know how they got out. They must have dug or picked the lock!”

“Chickens can’t dig, you idiot!”

“Okay,” the man said, clearly not paying attention. He grabbed another bird and threw it.

Jack watched as a chicken on his property ran over to the one called Nana and flapped and pecked angrily at her. Squawking loudly, Nana turned and went back to the coop, stepping under the wooden fence and walking into through the open coop door. Beatrice followed, stopping for a long moment to look at Jack, her beady eyes boring into his soul. She clucked and then went back to her coop. Jack, shivered,  frowned, storming over to the fence.

“Keep your chickens contained!”

“You’re absolutely right,” the man said, chasing another chicken.

Jack frowned. He wasn’t even listening to Jack. Angry, he climbed through the fence, grabbing a chicken as he stormed over to the new guy. He tossed the creature into the pen.

“You’re not listening to me!”

The new guy sighed. “You’re right, I’m trying to get all the chickens back home so nothing bad happens to them.” He worried his lower lip. “I think one is missing…”

Jack hadn’t expected such sudden openness. “Uh…” And then he sighed. “Alright.” He turned and followed after a chicken who was trying to sneak away. They caught the ones that were in eyesight. He met the new guy by the pen while he counted.

He frowned. “One’s unaccounted for…” He looked all around, worried. He opened the door to the coop.

“Hey! You’re gonna let them out again!” Jack moved to stop him, but something made him falter. _None of the chickens were leaving_. It wasn’t so weird, except they were all looking at the man for instruction.

“Girls, where is Miranda?”

They clucked and shook themselves until they heard one call from inside. The man smiled. “Oh, thank goodness!” He grinned at Jack. “She didn’t leave at all, probably took advantage of the opportunity to sit on some eggs. Thank you for helping! I should introduce myself! I’m Rhys, would you like some coffee?”

Jack glared at the man, prepared to say no, but he faltered at the wide, warm smile.

“I make some good coffee, so I’ve been told. It’s the least I could do with all the trouble I’ve caused.”

Growling, Jack walked back to his house. “Just keep your chickens off my property!”

“Sure…” he heard from behind him.

He sat on his porch, sullen, rocking angrily on the porch bench and sipping his cold coffee. He hated chickens and all the feathers they had dropped on his home. He growled, but his eyes were drawn to Rhys’ house, where he had exited, water bottle in one hand and a large sun hat in the other. Jack had not fully registered the young man through all the feathers. He wore shorts in the morning sun, showcasing the longest, most shapely legs Jack had seen. He placed the sun hat on his head, effectively completing the look the man had been trying to make. It was summertime and he was going to work on the yard.

Jack grunted as something small settled into his gut. He drank his coffee, watching Rhys mark out a large section of his property. He looked at the sun, the trees, the driveway, and the chickens when he decided where he would settle the first stick. After he did this, he looked once more at the chickens. He picked up the wooden steak and moved it another foot away from the chickens.

That made Jack smirk, even Rhys was worried about his own chickens.

Rhys made a large grid, smiling wide when he was finished. He looked again at the chickens, though, worried. The large man that seemed to live with Rhys came over, as if called. Rhys talked with him, pointed to the ground around the plotted land and then the chickens. The older man nodded and headed off, taking the truck into town.

Rhys began to till up the soil, kneeling over the ground to break it up. His back was to Jack and it gave him more than a nice view that he could watch all day. A view he glared at and promptly walked away, retreating into his house where he did his best not to look out windows to check on his neighbor.

The next morning, Jack was crabbier. He had not had a productive day until Rhys had finally stopped working in his garden. Then, it had been dinner. Jack had not been amused, not when he’d found himself stopped by every window where he stared at the new neighbor for ten minutes before noticing what he was doing.

The man was attractive, sure, but this was ridiculous. Jack was not one to be struck dumb. Ever. Not even with Angel’s mother. He had loved her dearly, but he had never been useless like this. He was pouring his coffee when Rhys once more came outside to tend to the chickens. Jack’s eyes caught on him as he poured, the hot liquid spilling over the side and onto his hand. He swore loudly, setting the mug down harshly as he jumped away.

This was annoying. He poured his morning brew into a travel mug and decided to get errands done in town. He was met with one chicken in his grass, picking at it.

“Hey!” Jack called to it. “Go away!”

The chicken ignored him. He stomped over to it, impressed that it wasn’t running away. Jack even growled, letting the werewolf in him loose just a bit. It always worked on animals. It did not work on this chicken. This chicken gobbled back at him.

“No,” Jack glared. He turned to Rhys and yelled at him. “Your damn chicken is on my yard again!”

The younger man frowned and looked around the coop. He sighed. “Beatrice! Come back here please!”

The chicken ruffled its feathers and walked back across the fence. There was something strange going on over there. Chickens did not listen like that, or work like that. And Jack did not stare stupidly at people. Growling, he stomped to his truck and climbed in, peeling out to the town.

* * *

Timothy was tall and he was strong, and yet. He could not reach the last bag of fertilizer on the top shelf. This had never been a problem for him before. He reached, standing on his tiptoes to try and get it. Still, he could not reach. He tried jumping, but that had only made him stumble and flail backwards, hands hitting a person.

The person who caught him and steadied him. “Easy.”

“I’m so sorry!” Timothy said quickly, backing away, freckled cheeks bright red. “I’m normally not that-” his mind faltered as he stared at the tall, large man, hair white and peppered with grey. He looked battered, but incredibly and immovably sturdy. And gorgeous. His muscles rippled out of his shirt, stretched across his large, broad chest. His right eye was busted, a milky white with a hideous scar across it.

The man’s brows rose as Timothy continued to stare. “You okay?” he asked, leaning in. Tim watched with horror as the man’s eyes narrowed on his flushed face, and he smirked. “Oh, you like older men, hmm?” His voice was purposefully low and thick, rumbling into Tim’s body.

His insides were warm and swirling around him, his head fogged and clogged. Timothy’s breath let out slowly as he tried desperately to say something coherent. “Mate,” he fumbled.

“Mate?” The older man grinned. “Shit, you want me to mate with you? Hell, I’ve never had such a bold request before.” He eyed the man slowly, drinking him in. “I s’pose I could be gentle.”

A gasp burst from Timothy as he tried desperately to explain. But his noise had only made the large man smirk deeper and Tim’s brain stalled even more.

“I could have fun with a cute thing like you.” He reached around Timothy, reaching up to easily grab the bag of fertilizer. He set it in Tim’s arms. “Name’s Wil, I live out on Farrison road, I’m working for the guy that’s just moved in, I’m in the cabin by the woods. Stop by _any_ time.”

Timothy did not move until the man had left the aisle. He clutched the bag to him tightly, blinking and frowning. What the hell had just happened? He had completely frozen. He never had trouble keeping his cool, no matter how attractive they were, but he wasn’t even sure if he’d said anything.

Then he stilled. He had said something. His heart beat furiously. He’d call the man mate. _His mate_. Stashing the fertilizer in his cart, he crept around the aisle and peaked at Wil. He shopped quietly, as though he hadn’t just flirted hardcore with a stranger. He seemed ethereal, and almost dream like. He could feel it in the pit of his stomach, the draw, the pull to follow Wil and get to know him. They said what happens when a werewolf finds their soul mate differed, but at the core it was an unending want to be around them, to protect them, and to do anything for them that would make them happy.

Timothy forced himself away Wil and leaned against the aisle. “Shit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My tumblr: http://nessiefromspace.tumblr.com/  
> My Borderlands/ fanart tumblr: https://nessiesspeakeasy.tumblr.com/  
> My old Borderlands tumblr: http://nessiefromink.tumblr.com/


	3. Chapter 3

Rhys woke up early one morning, the sky just turning to light. He stretched, refreshed even though he’d gone to bed late. There was something about working with the land that relaxed Rhys completely. The smell of fresh coffee drifted into his room. He did not have an automatic coffee maker, so he slid from his bed, loving the feel of the cold, wood floors under his feet. He felt a lot freer out here in the country than in his tiny apartment.

 He smiled as he went into the kitchen where the elven queen sat, sipping coffee. Rhys smiled . “Good morning!”

“Is it?” she asked thoughtfully.

“I would say so.” Rhys poured himself a cup and added in some creamer. When he saw her curiosity, he handed it to her. “So, Yvette, what brings you to my humble home?”

A spark of mischief flashed in her eye and she had to stop her lips from spreading super wide. “I just thought I’d stop by to see how you are and to ask how one makes coffee beans.” She let a single drop of creamer fall onto her finger and then tasted it. “Wow, this is very sweet.”

“And fake, but I’m lazy. Buying it is easier than making it.” He shrugged.

Yvette shook her head. “I will never understand humans.” Her eyes fell on him. “How are you feeling?”

Rhys smiled. “I’m alright, my arm still gets stiff, but it’s getting better.”

“And your eye? Let me see it.”

He went to her, leaning in so she could observe it. She gently pulled his eye more open. “Mmm,” she said, nodding. She took his arm and looked over it, the glamor receding to show an elegant, wooden arm. “And how is it, using this?”

“I’m still a little clumsy, but I’m getting better.”

She let her fingers trail over the bark, over the etchings. “It is interesting. None of us can figure out why the tree would ask to be grafted to you, a human. Why not another elf?” Her fingers were soft, though it felt different than if she’d been touching skin. It was a dull feeling, like the memory of a dream. She turned it this way and that, touching each tip of her finger to the tips of his. She finally nodded in approval and let him go. “Have you noticed anything different with your arm?”

Rhys frowned. “Like what?”

Before she could answer the door opened and Wilhelm came in, silent as ever. He stopped to bow to Yvette. “My queen.” When she nodded to him, he moved about normally, pouring himself coffee.

“How are you adjusting, Wilhelm?” Her lips curled into a smirk as he shrugged. “I must apologize for Fiona, she cannot control herself when she’s stressed and tends to take it out on others.” Again Wilhelm shrugged, which gained a long stare from Yvette. “ _I see_ ,” whispered, her lips curling into a wide grin.

She sipped her coffee in the silence. Rhys was used to this form of understanding that he would never decipher. He took a long swig of his coffee and then began breakfast. Halfway through, Wilhelm took over, cooking the eggs exactly how the queen and Rhys liked it. They were all just about to eat when Rhys’ front door opened once more.

“My queen!” Fiona sighed heavily. “There you are! The palace has been in a frenzy! You left no message for anyone!” Her brows were furrowed with worry and then disgust as she saw the meal before the queen. “You left the kingdom to eat greasy human food?”

Yvette smiled warmly, and it struck Rhys at how genuine it was. Her eyes lit up at Fiona. “Come, join us.” She indicated the seat next to her.

“It would not be…” She hesitated to find a word that wouldn’t be rude.

“Please?” Yvette asked softly.

Rhys watched in amazement as Fiona swallowed and stiffly sat next to the queen.

“There we go!” Yvette smiled at her. “You should try some, it’s really good. There’s something behind the grease that makes it taste amazing.”

“No thank you…” Fiona said quietly, her cheeks turning pink.

Rhys pretended not to notice the flirtations and ate his food heartily. Wilhelm cooked amazing food, no matter if it was his first time or not, it was always spot on. It wasn’t hard to get lost in the meal and block out the world around him. Just as he finished his last bite, Wilhelm took his plate and fork and washed them.

Rhys had given up trying to get Wilhelm to treat him like normal. He just stood, thanked him, and left the house to check up on the chickens. He did a head count, but was stopped halfway through as the queen stood beside him, Fiona, red and silent behind her.

“Oh! Chickens!” She entered the pen, her long, elegant dress dragging through the hay and the dirt.

“My- uh- Yvette, please, you’re dress,” Fiona pleaded.

Yvette waved her away. She bent down and pet one of the chickens. She obediently hopped onto the queen’s knee, roosting perfectly. “Look at you!” she cooed. “What a beautiful chicken you are!” The chicken ruffled her feathers happily. Gently, Yvette set the bird down and smiled as she stood. “They’re all so lovely and obedient!”

“I’ve noticed that too,” Rhys said.

“It’s being so close to part of the ancient tree. You’ll find things around here will always work in your favor, plants will grow better, fuller and the animals will all understand you.” She smiled and stood, gently setting the chicken on the ground. “Well, I suppose we should get back now.”

“Yes, please,” Fiona sighed happily.

He gave the queen a hug as she left, ignoring the deep glare from Fiona. The queen hugged him tightly, unused to this form of affection. When they headed back to the forest, Rhys finished his count of the chickens. Beatrice was missing again. He looked around his yard for her.

“You chicken’s over here!” Jack called loudly from his porch.

Rhys looked over, relieved to see her sitting on the thick barrier of Jack’s porch. He smiled and went over, climbing over the fence easily and climbing the steps. “I’m sorry! I don’t know how she gets out.” He watched her, perfectly content and sleeping. “She must like you.”

The man growled. “I don’t see how? I hate chickens!”

Rhys winced. “I’m sorry, I should have built the coop on the other side, but I was worried about animals getting to them.”

Jack grunted, an amused smirk sliding across his lips.

“Come on, Beatrice, it’s time to go home.” He picked her up and tucked her under his arm. She did not complain.

Jack eyed them. “They’re oddly… aware. I’ve never known chickens to listen like they do.”

“Huh,” Rhys said, pretending to be thoughtful. “I hadn’t noticed.” He smiled wide, hoping he could pull off some sort of innocence.

That only made Jack frown deeper. “ _You hadn’t noticed_? They walked in a line to their coop when you first brought them here!”

For a moment, Rhys began to panic, but then the meaning behind Jack’s words caught him and he smiled wide. “You were watching me?” It made Jack blink, and Rhys knew he was distracted. He smiled wider, brows rising. “Do you always watch me? Not that I mind.” He winking and then turned and walked back to his property, making sure to sway his hips just a bit. He sighed loudly as he set Beatrice back into the coop. “That was close! You’re gonna expose us if you keep doing that.” But Rhys smiled to himself all day as he worked on the yard. He’d flirted so openly with Jack to take his attention away from the elven magic, but there was something about knowing the incredibly gorgeous, older man watched him. It heated his face in a wonderful way.

* * *

Timothy told himself for the hundredth time that he was for sure, absolutely crazy. He’d lasted a week before breaking down and driving out to where Wil lived. It was late, his headlights very noticeable if Jack were looking out the right window. He’d see. He’d know. The new guy would know. Everyone would know.

His heart pounded as he drove over to the cabin and parked next to a truck. He should have better respect for himself. He wasn’t desperate for intimacy, but… The air left him as the door opened and Wil leaned against the doorway, the light shrouding behind him. Tim got out and stood stiffly next to his car, throat dry.

“Took ya long enough,” Wil said. “Come in.” Tim walked automatically to him, stomach alight with anticipation. Wil shut the door behind him, crowding his space. “You ever gonna say more than one word to me?”

Timothy winced. It was true, he was acting like an imbecile. He swallowed. “Hi… I’m, I’m Tim… Timothy…”

Wil grinned and it curled Tim’s toes. “Nice to meet you TimTimothy.”

Timothy’s face was hot and he could only imagine just how red it was. His brain stalled. He knew it was a joke, but he couldn’t get himself to say anything and when he finally made some noise, it was strangled and terrible.

Wil laughed. “Calm down, okay? There’s nothing to be nervous about, I’m a good listener and won’t do anything you don’t ever want to do.”

He just needed to break the ice, that was all, Timothy thought. Get the nervousness out and then he’d be able to function. He jumped into Wil’s arms, kissing him desperately. The older man was only surprised for a moment, chuckling against Tim’s lips and kissing him back. He lead Tim to his bedroom, laying him down over his large bed.

Timothy could not believe he was doing this, and yet, he smiled, the scent and weight of Wil all around him. It was right, so were the man’s lips on his neck, light and gentle. Timothy gripped him tightly.

“Don’t…”

Wil stopped to look at him.

Tim’s face reddened. “Don’t… Don’t be gentle…”

Wil’s toothy grinned sent shivers down his spine. His teeth sank into Timothy’s skin and everything was perfect.

* * *

Jack knew something magical was happening with his neighbor. There was just no other way to explain the chickens or how _green_ Rhys’ property looked. It had been neglected for years and now it looked new and fresh after only weeks. Jack knew Rhys had done nothing but mow and water the grass and plant a garden, so there was no reason for it to look as good as it did.

He stared out his window yet again, thinking about Rhys and what kind of magic he could have. He could easily be a witch, he was great looking, with an air of mystery and he had a way with nature, but witches left traces that were obvious.

He watched Rhys for an hour before he realized that he was. He growled. Rhys certainly was bewitching. Jack never stared like this with anyone else. It was another reason he thought Rhys a witch, being around him was almost like being in a trance. It was unnerving and annoying. He got nothing done and if he closed the blinds, he’d just find himself peering through them like a creeper. He growled at himself and stalked away, only to find himself back at a window where he could watch Rhys working outside.

It wasn’t like he even ogled Rhys, either, that he could at least explain away. No, he just watched him, like a play in a theater or a rare animal. He even tried to check out Rhys’ curves, which were nice and plentiful, but he’d last seconds before he just stared uselessly.

And that yard. How was it so lush and bountiful? Jack labored and sweated over his day and night and all Rhys did was plant and water and stupidly talk to them. He grunted and for the hundredth time, he left the window, determined not to watch the stupid man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My tumblr: http://nessiefromspace.tumblr.com/  
> My Borderlands/ fanart tumblr: https://nessiesspeakeasy.tumblr.com/  
> My old Borderlands tumblr: http://nessiefromink.tumblr.com/


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pictures in this chapter by:  
> Starfruitspice: https://starfruitspice.tumblr.com

Vaughn scratched his head as he stared at Rhys’ property. “Wow… And you just planted these?”

Rhys nodded. “Like a few days after I moved in.” Rhys was crouched by the plants that were green and vibrant. He gently touched a leaf between his thumb and pointer finger. “But you’ve just grown and grown and grown, haven’t you?” He smiled.

Vaughn glanced at the house next door. “Don’t you think… People will notice?”

Sighing, Rhys stood. “Yeah… I mean, we knew this was going to happen. It’s why I had to leave the city. Hard to explain why a tree is suddenly growing in the middle of the apartment on the fourth floor.”

Vaughn nodded. “What about the orchards?”

Rhys smiled. “There’s already apples growing.”

Eyes wide, Vaughn walked to the back to look at them. “Rhys, _this is faster than in the city_.”

“I know, but look at how happy they are!”

“How happy they are? You can tell that?”

Rhys nodded, touching the trunk of one. “That’s why they’re growing so fast, they’re happy and healthy.”

Nodding, Vaughn sighed. “Just be careful with that kind of talk around others who don’t know.”

“Right,” Rhys sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s so easy to just get lost in the plants and animals… I forget…”

His friend smiled sympathetically. “I should be able to visit more, especially after tonight, when we’ll go on our hunt. It will ease everybody’s mind.”

“Good. It’s lonely without you.”

They heard yelling in the distance and Rhys smirked. “Beatrice has taken a liking to our grumpy neighbor.”

“Beatrice?”

“A chicken. Somehow she always gets out and greets him and he hates chickens, but he’s never mean to them.” Rhys shrugged, eyes full of mischief.

“Do you want me to wait while you get her?”

Rhys waved the question away. “No, he can wait. A little visit with her will do the grouch some good.”

Vaughn smirked as they walked back to the front of the house.

“So, have you stopped by _his_ place yet?” Rhys asked.

Vaughn’s face reddened and he stammered. “It’s not that easy, Rhys! I get weird when around him! It’s stupid and embarrassing.”

“I’ll go with you, I’d like to meet him, that way I can be a buffer if you get stupid and embarrassing.”

Vaughn smiled. “Maybe.” When he left a little while later, Rhys finally made his way to Jack’s porch, where the man glared.

Rhys flashed a bright smile. “It’s such a beautiful morning, isn't it?” He stopped to greet Beatrice, asleep on his banister.

“I got a question for you, _cupcake_ ,” Jack snarled, standing up from the bench seat. He sauntered within inches of Rhys. “How _do_ you do it?” His voice had lowered and he leaned against the pillar, blocking Rhys in.

Rhys’ eyes widened, surprised at the sudden change. “Uhm… What?” Rhys fumbled. “What are you doing?”

Jack shrugged. “Well, if you get to flirt with me to avoid having to answer a question, figured I get to flirt back. So, what’s with the garden?”

“What, what about my garden?”

“How did you get it growing so fast?”

Rhys shrugged. “I’m not doing anything special-”

“ _Oh_ , we both know that’s not true. Tell me, sugar, what’s your secret, hmm? Did you make a deal with a fairy? Are you a witch?”

Rhys’ eyes widened. “You think-”

“ _I know_ you’re using some sort of magic to make your plants grow faster.” Jack’s smirk spread wider as Rhys stayed silent.

But Rhys had realized something. Jack did not suspect elves. He had not said so at least, which meant Rhys was still safe. “Well,” he said, eyes twinkling. “If you _know_ , then why are you asking me?” He slid from his caged position and scooped up Beatrice. He smirked devilishly at Jack. “If you’re so _all-knowing_ , then you should be proud of yourself, right? I know _I’m_ proud of you.” He grinned as Jack’s face soured. He turned and skipped down the porch steps. “Have a good day, Jack! Try not to stare too much at me!”

* * *

Jack glared at the back of Rhys. The man was slippery, and was definitely messing with magic. It was good to know his skills in gardening hadn’t diminished and that Rhys was having help. He went into the house to prepare for the hunt that night.

He could feel it building up inside him, wanting and craving to get out as the day passed. He paced around the house impatiently and when he wasn’t doing that, he stared at Rhys. It seemed different this time, however, as the beast inside him came ever closer to the surface. Rhys seemed more in-focus, removed from everything around him. His body began to ache in his core and a horrible, sudden urge to go to Rhys shuddered through him. He swallowed it and turned away, deciding to fix some food to kill some time.

* * *

When the sun finally went down, Jack could breathe easier, the tightness in his chest eased and his muscles relaxed. He could feel the moon rising and knew it would be soon. He stared at Rhys’ house, waiting for the lights to turn off. He was surprised when Rhys turned in early, the only light a soft glow from his bedroom.

It was time. Jack went out to his back porch, naked, skin tingling in the night. He shifted easily, muscles and bones fluid after all these years. His front paws landed on the wooden deck and all the new scents filled his lungs. He instantly found Rhys’ scent, light and fresh, almost like the forest. He followed it, across his property and onto Rhys’, right up to the door. He sniffed it, finding mixes of other scents that threw him off. They were otherworldly, unlike anything he’d ever experienced and they all spun around Rhys. He sniffed harshly and turned away from the door, sniffing the grass and all the plants that were growing faster than they should have been. They smelled normal and they smelled like Rhys. It still made absolutely no sense to him and only frustrated him further. As he left Rhys’ property, he stopped by a row of gorgeous, blooming flowers that had no right to be blooming yet. He sniffed them, found them to smell like Rhys and then lifted his leg and peed on them. He walked along, peeing down the row, covering the flowers in his scent and taking his frustrations out on those insignificant flowers.

Feeling justified now, he trotted off into the forest, but as he approached the treeline, his hackles immediately rose. He followed the scent to a tree where he stopped and sniffed it. It smelled like nothing he recognized, like the earth, only ancient, but sweet and elegant. He growled at it, finally understanding what this new scent was. He looked back at Rhys’ home and wondered how the hell he’d gotten mixed up with elves.

His ears twitched as he heard the howl of the town’s appointed alpha. Jack had half a mind to pee on the tree before joining in the hunt, but he’d already spent all of it on the flowers. Instead, he sniffed disapprovingly at it and began to run to the others. He would not tell them, not when it would start a riot of idiots. He had no idea why they would be so bold as to move a portal entrance so close to a town, but he had a feeling Rhys knew

* * *

Rhys woke up with a pounding headache. It throbbed and churned his stomach wickedly. He groaned and pulled the blankets over his head, hoping he could sleep it off. When it throbbed worse, he swore and forced himself out of bed. His head was dizzy as he sat up and he had to slowly ease himself out of bed and lean on walls as he went downstairs in his pajamas.

Wilhelm was making breakfast and the smell was a sledgehammer to his head. He collapsed on the bottom steps, groaning and hanging his head between his legs.

“What’s wrong with you?” The man asked, eying him.

“Headache… Awful…” Rhys groaned.

He heard the elf sigh and move around the kitchen before standing next to him. “Alright, look at me.”

“What?” Rhys frowned, unmoving. Already Wilhelm was saying more than he had ever in Rhys’ company.

“Look at me.”

“Why?” Rhys whined.

“Just fucking look at me, will ya?” he growled.

Slowly, eyes squinting from the light, he looked at Wilhelm. The man touched a finger to his forehead, crystal blue eyes staring into his. “Mmm,” he said. He took a step back. “It’s your eye, we’re going to have to rip it out.”

“WHAT!?” Rhys gasped, leaning away and covering his eye.

Wilhelm laughed long and loud, the sound pounding into Rhys’ head. He winced and glared.

“I’m just fucking with you, it’s just the plants that have died.”

“WHAT!?” Rhys glared at the elf. “What do you mean dead plants!?”

“Saw ‘em on my way up here, over by the forest.”

Rhys stood and made his way to the door, throwing it open as he left. He made his way over, feeling even more sick to his stomach the closer he got. There were eight of them, wilted in a row. Rhys covered his mouth as he got close. “What happened to you?” he whispered. He knelt down and gently touched one. Instantly in his broken eye, he saw a large wolf-like creature, brown with almost black legs and face, hunched over and sniffing the flowers. Its golden, multi-colored eyes flashed in the moonlight as it lifted its leg and relieved itself on each plant deliberately.

Rhys gasped and fell backward on his butt, staring at the dead plants. A werewolf had peed on them. A werewolf had been through his property. Vaughn had told him it was a hunting night, but he hadn’t thought anyone would go through his land, especially since the only person within distance was-

“Jack!” Rhys glared at the house next door. Jack was the only person close enough to have to go through his home to get to the woods. He hadn’t been sure if the man was a werewolf, but it would make sense. He got to his feet and made his way over there, his head pounding with each angry step. As he stomped up the steps, he found Beatrice, asleep on the railing. “Not today Beatrice. Go home!” he huffed angrily.

The chicken cooed and hopped off the railing, making her way down the stairs. Rhys waited until she was a ways away before he began to ruthlessly poke the doorbell over and over.

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!?” He heard Jack yell as he came to the door. “IT’S SEVEN IN THE MORNING JUST WHO THE HELL-” As Jack swung the door open, glaring, he stopped yelling. “What the hell cupc-”

“Don’t.” Rhys whispered, his voice shaking. “Just don’t. You need to go and fix those plants. Right now.”

Jack opened the screen door and looked Rhys over. “You’re looking pretty pale there-”

“Just fix the plants, Jack!” Rhys snapped. “I know you peed on them! They’re dead and it hurts! Just _fix_ them!”

Jack’s brow rose and his smirked, leaning against the door frame. “You think I peed on them? Cupcake, you’re really not feeling well if you think that I went out in the middle of the night and peed on some plants of yours.”

Frustration welled up and it twisted everything inside him and suddenly he felt bile rise. He ran to the railing and leaned over it to throw up.

“Woah!” he heard Jack say before moving next to Rhys. When Rhys had finished, Jack lead him gently to the porch bench and brought him some water.

Rhys took a sip of it. “ _Please_ , Jack, it _hurts_. I know you’re a werewolf and I know you peed on them. Please just make the pain stop, they’re dead and it hurts.”

The man frowned and watched Rhys closely. “How do you know?”

“I just do, okay? I know the whole town is full of them.” He rubbed his palm against his head. The ache was more dull this far away, but it still pounded into him. “I don’t care why you peed on them, I just need it fixed.”

“How do you want me to fix them?” Jack’s voice was low and even, a soothing sound to Rhys’ throbbing head.

“I don’t know! It just-” he groaned. “It hurts!”

“What hurts exactly, cupcake?”

“My head! It hurts from them dying! Please, just-”

“Fix it, yeah, you’ve already said that.” There was silence for a long moment before Jack stood up and left. “Alright, you stay here and drink the water.” He snagged the gardening gloves draped over the railing of the stairs and headed for Rhys’ home.

Rhys pulled a pillow over to him to rest his head on while he curled up on the swinging bench. He drank half the glass before putting it down and resting his head. The ache began to dull just enough that Rhys slipped into sleep. When he woke up next, the sun was in the middle of the sky and the pain in his head was almost gone. A throw blanket had been tossed over him and the smell of bacon filled the air. It smelled amazing and Rhys remembered that he hadn’t actually eaten at all today. He needed to go home and find something to eat.

Stretching, he stood and peaked through Jack’s opened door. “Hello?” he called tentatively.

“C’mon in, pumpkin,” Jack called. “I’m in the kitchen.”

Rhys complied, looking around the house, curiously. Pictures telling the story of a little girl growing up with Jack, were everywhere. He stopped to look at one. He could not help smiling at how happy both her and Jack looked. He looked completely different when he genuinely smiled. It was incredibly handsome. He moved away to fold the blanket and set it on the back of the couch before continuing to the kitchen. Jack had all the fixings for a sandwich and it made Rhys’ mouth begin to water.

“Uh, I thought I’d return you blanket before going home…” Rhys said, from the doorway.

“Nuh uh, we’re going to have a talk.” Jack spoke with is back to Rhys as he prepared the food.

Rhys’ brows rose. “Oh?” When all Jack did was nod, Rhys sighed. “Yeah, okay…” He sat down at the table and watched the older man. He moved around fluidly, making two sandwiches and setting them on the table for him and Rhys. He set multiple bags of chips in the middle, followed by water for both of them. Rhys’ eyes were large and he took a bite of the blt with avocado and lettuce.

He melted. “Wow, this is amazing!”

Jack smirked, leaning back in his chair and watching Rhys. “Glad you like it. How ya feeling?”

Rhys winced. “I’m… a lot better…” He set the sandwich down. “Thank you.”

Jack shrugged and took a bite of his sandwich. “That’s what I wanted to talk about, cupcake. So, you know I’m a werewolf, _I_ know you reek of elves. Found their little portal last night as I went into the woods. Gotta say, all that mumbo jumbo going on at your place sure makes a lot more sense now. What I don’t understand is how a _human_ got these powers that only _elves_ have. Care to elaborate on that?”

Rhys smiled apologetically. “I can’t. I swore that I wouldn’t.”

Jack snorted. “Right. Well, it’s obvious whatever’s happening to you isn’t too nice.”

That made Rhys frown. “What do you mean?”

He leaned forward, sharp eyes boring into Rhys. “Pumpkin, look at today, you were in pain over some flowers. What would happen if more die? What happens when winter comes? Or if for some reason one of your orchard trees gets killed? What’s going to happen to you if that ever happens?”

Rhys looked down and then at his left arm. He could see the wooden fingers twisting with his flesh ones. He frowned and raised his hand in the air, he should not be able to see it. The glamour worked on him as well and he should have been staring at flesh instead of bark. “What?” he whispered. He looked at Jack, holding his hand out in front of the man’s face. “What do you see?”

The man sat forward and took Rhys’ hand. “I see a hand.” He held it in his, smoothing his thumb over it. “Rhys,” he said quietly. “Whatever is happening to you is going to be dangerous.”

Those words tore Rhys’ gaze from his wooden hand. He gave Jack a rueful smile. “It already has been… At least when this all started…”

“Then it’s going to get worse. Elves always bring danger with them.”

The warmth from Jack’s hand felt strange. It rippled through the wood like little pings in every grain. It rose to his elbow and then his shoulder, seeping into his flesh and creeping up into his mind. He blinked, his mind suddenly fuzzy and full of only one thought.

 _Kiss_.

He let out a small breath, his eyes locking onto Jack’s. The man’s eyes assessed him, turning confused and then concerned. He spoke to Rhys, but he heard nothing. He leaned forward, bracing his other hand on Jack’s knee and brought his lips against the man’s. They were soft and wonderful and so, so right. He didn’t know why it felt right, but it did.

It only lasted a moment before Jack was gently pushing him away. “Woah there, cupcake, what’s this about? I know I’m handsome as all hell and I am a great kisser, but that was a little too out of the blue, even for me.”

Rhys frowned and tried to kiss Jack again. “What do you mean what am I doing? I thought it was obvious.”

Jack placed both hands on Rhys’ shoulders, keeping him at arm’s length. “Rhys.”

The heat began to dull, first from his arm and then his head. He blinked, frowning and leaning back in his chair, putting space between them. “What..?” he murmured. “What just happened?” He rubbed his temple.

Jack moved forward to touch his wooden hand again. “Are you-”

Immediately, Rhys leapt from his seat. “No!” The chair toppled over as Rhyse cradled his arm and shook his head, eyes wide. “I, I’m sorry, Jack! I don’t know why… I didn’t mean to… I just suddenly felt the need and, and… I don’t know why…” He looked down at his arm. “I don’t understand…” He had never been one to do something like that, no matter how much he wanted to. He was not impulsive like that, but he hadn’t been able to help it… “Almost like a trance…” he whispered.

“What?” Jack asked. He sighed in his chair. “Look, pumpkin, I don’t understand what’s going on, but you’re obviously spooked. Finish your sandwich and maybe it’ll give you some time to think about it.”

“I… I don’t know…”

“I ain’t gonna touch ya, promise.” 

Rhys bit his lip and then nodded. He picked up his chair and sat back down, a little further from Jack than before. He ate his sandwich, staying silent and doing what Jack suggested. He thought. This ability or whatever it was wasn’t expected and he wasn’t sure if it was supposed to be happening at all. Sure he could make plants grow from anything, but this… This hadn’t been mentioned at all by Yvette. He stared at his wooden arm, the insatiable want to kiss Jack was no longer there.

He frowned. “Hey, uh… Jack?”

“Hmm?”

“Did… Did you want to kiss me?” He could feel the heat around his cheeks, but he needed to know.

Jack was silent and then his lips quirked into a smile. “Yeah, I can’t say it didn’t cross my mind. You’re pretty damn cute for a city guy who raises chickens and deals with elves.”

“Did… You want to when you held my hand?”

“Of course.”

Rhys moved his finger to his lips, chewing on it while he thought to himself. “Does this mean that it can feel what others are feeling? But why did it overwhelm me and make me want to do that?”

“You saying you were hypnotized? That’s why you kissed me?” He laughed. “Gotta say, that’s kind of disappointing.”

Rhys’ eyes flicked to Jack’s. “I don’t know why, it’s not like you’ve been the most hospitable neighbor.”

That made Jack sigh. “No, I haven’t, have I?”

Taking another bite of his sandwich, Rhys smiled. “You can make it up to me though. You can show me some gardening techniques.”

Jack grunted. “Like you need any techniques. Your plants and orchard are a month further along than what they should be. That’s how I knew you were into something magical.”

“Oh,” Rhys was thoughtful. “That’s what Vaughn said too…”

“I take it Vaughn knows what’s up with you, then?”

“He was there when it happened.”

“When what happened?”

Rhys flicked his eyes to Jack. “Nice try.” A small smile perked at his lips though. Rhys shrugged. “It makes sense though, I guess. It’s why I moved from the city. A tree started growing in my apartment on the fourth floor.”

Jack’s eyes widened. “Shit, cupcake, that’s…”

“Yeah…”

“That’s gonna happen here, then, huh?”

Rhys winced and nodded. “Yeah. I guess I should have known it would happen with all the plants already here.”

“Good to know. How long had it been since the tree started growing?”

“A little over a month…”

Jack sat forward, leaning on the table, but keeping distance from Rhys. “You gotta understand Rhysie, werewolves and elves don’t get along. No one remembers why, but generally personality differences are enough to keep the rift strong and wide. I don’t particularly like the idea of you put in danger like this, but I can deal with it. The town idiots, however, when they find out, won’t and by the sounds of it, it won’t be hard to hide this for too much longer.”

Nodding, Rhys sighed. “That’s about what the elves said too.” He huffed. “It’s not like I had a choice- have a choice.” He held up his left arm and stared at the intricate twining of the ancient light gray oak. If he could see this now, he wondered if he could see his eye. He gasped and touched it. “Wait, can, can you see anything different with my eye?”

Jack was silent as he stared at him. “Pumpkin, what happened to you?” he asked quietly.

“Can you see anything different?” Rhys was nervous. Yes, they’d fixed his eyes, but if the magic was wearing down on him, who knew how long until others could see it.

The older man stared at Rhys before sighing. “I see you, Rhys, as you’ve always been.”

“Right…” Rhys sat back. “I’m sorry. This is rude of me. I’m asking you questions you don’t know how to answer and I can’t tell you anything.”  He took a bite and as he looked around, he remembered the pictures. “So, is that your daughter?”

For a long moment, Jack was silent, staring at Rhys, searching him with those piercing eyes. Then, he nodded. “Yeah, that’s Angel, she’s at college in another state.”

“You two look really happy,” Rhys smiled. “It was nice to see, you have a great smile.”

Jack’s brows rose and the corners of his lips quirked up. “Do I now? You like my smile, does that mean you liked my kiss too?”

Again, Rhys’ cheeks burned and he could not help the smile that stretched across his face. He quickly snatched a chip and threw it at Jack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My tumblr: http://nessiefromspace.tumblr.com/  
> My Borderlands/ fanart tumblr: https://nessiesspeakeasy.tumblr.com/  
> My old Borderlands tumblr: http://nessiefromink.tumblr.com/


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pictures in this chapter by:  
> C0njidraws: https://c0njidraws.tumblr.com  
> 

 

Jack could not stop thinking about that kiss. He lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, swearing as he tried to sleep, but no matter how hard he tried, he could not settle down. The kiss had been a magical accident, but the kid had liked it and Jack had loved it. And now it was keeping him up. A stupid kiss, jeeze, what was wrong with him? He hardly knew the guy and he was tripping over everything for him.

He groaned and got out of bed to pace. He stopped by the window that faced Rhys’ home and stood there, noting Rhys’ light was on. He pulled out his phone, smirking at his quick thinking to get the kid’s phone number. He began to text him. ‘Can’t sleep?’

‘Nope, thinking… Why are you up?’

“Thinking…’

‘Lol. Thinking about what?’

‘This poor sap who thinks he doesn’t know how to garden. Thinking about giving him some gardening lessons.’

‘I’m sure this poor sap would be grateful.’

‘Better be, I’m a very busy guy. Get some sleep, long day tomorrow.’

‘You too. Night Jack.’

‘Night Rhysie.’

He stared out the window until he saw the light turn off. He nodded to himself and went to his bed, where he settled and stared at the ceiling, falling asleep instantly.

* * *

Jack glared, dumbfounded by what he was seeing in his kitchen. That stupid chicken was roosting on his table. He checked the doors and windows, finding all of them shut and locked properly. He went back to the chicken.

He leaned in close. “How did you get in here? Why are you in here? I hate chickens. _I hate you_ , why are you here? Get out. I know you can understand me! Get out!” He was shouting now.

The chicken seemed to sigh deeper into sleep.

“No, nuh uh, none of that, I know you’re not really sleeping! Get out!” Even though he spoke firmly, the chicken remained deaf to his orders.

The knock on the door made him growl. He left and answered it to find Rhys smiling, holding a tray of bacon, eggs, potatoes, sausages and toast. “I thought since you’re helping me with the property, the least I could do was feed you.”

He smirked. “A breakfast for two?”

Smiling, Rhys shrugged. “I figured it was only polite…”

Grinning, he opened the door and let Rhys walk past him. They went into the kitchen where Rhys stopped and stared at the table.

“Beatrice?” He turned and handed the tray to Jack. He frowned at her in confusion. “How did you get in here?” She looked at him and blinked. He bent down in front of her. “You can’t just go into other people’s coops, Beatrice.” He picked her up and walked her to the front door. He came back a moment later. “I’m sorry about that! I didn’t think she’d break in.”

Jack set the tray down. “Coffee?”

“Oh, yes!” Rhys dressed his coffee to his liking and sat back down. “So, I was thinking about the gardening-”

“Tools,” Jack interrupted. “It’s all about the tools.” He brought plates and silverware over for them to dig in with. He took a large gulp of his coffee before continuing. “What kind of tools do you have?”

Rhys blinked. “Oh, I didn’t realize… I’ve just been using that tiny shovel I found at a general store.”

Jack blinked at him, unsure at what he’d heard. “Are you telling me, that you did all that with just a trowel?” He stood and went to the window that gave the best view of Rhys’ property. He pointed out at all the growing and flourishing plants. “A trowel did all that!?”

Rhys nervously nodded. “Yeah…?”

He stared at Rhys as he sat back down. He took a large swig of his coffee. “We’re going shopping today. We’re going to get you more tools.”

“Okay!” Rhys lit up and began to serve each of them food. “I’ve never owned more than that trowel! This is going to be exciting!”

* * *

It was not exciting. Rhys followed dutifully behind Jack in the store until they’d come to the section where gardening tools lined the walls. Jack pulled the first one off the shelf.

“This is a hoe. It’s ten thousand times better and faster than a trowel.” It was plain, the handle a simple wood.

“What about this one!” Rhys gasped, finding one that had a lavender handle with flowers painted onto the metal. “This one looks really nice!”

“It’s a shit brand, it’ll break within a month,” Jack said. “This one is sturdy and I’ve tested the brand and it’s still good as new years later.”

Rhys scrunched his nose. “It’s ugly, though.”

Jack stared. “Ugly tools make the prettiest gardens. We’re getting this one.”

“But it’s _my_ garden! Why can’t I have this one?”

“I already said, because you’ll have to buy a new one within a month!”

“But at least it’d be pretty and fun!”

The werewolf glared at Rhys. “It has nothing to do with _pretty and fun_! Gardening is hard work and you need tools that will hold up to it! These are them.”

“But they’re boring!” Rhys huffed, pouting.

Jack’s eyes fell to that pout and he stared at it as he spoke. “Boring means good gardening. I’ve been on a farm my whole life.”

Crossing his arms, Rhys looked to the side at his fun gardening tool, muttering. “You must be pretty boring, then.”

“Oh, cupcake, I’m not boring in the least.” Jack said with a smile that curled into a spoken statement. He set the hoe in the cart as Rhys flushed.

“You’ll need a shovel.” He continued and made for another boring tool.

Letting his breath out, Rhys watched the man put the shovel into the cart. He watched Jack. The man was strong in body and will and he had a certain charm about him that made Rhys rheel in all the right ways. He followed along, gloomily, though, eyeing all the pretty tools that Jack snubbed.

“You think you’ll use a rake?” Jack asked.

“I dunno, why don’t you ask the almighty neighbor who knows everything.” Rhys grumbled, eyes locked on the beautiful tools he was denied.

Jack sighed. “Alright, pumpkin, what if I painted them for you?”

Rhys’ eyes widened. “Really?”

“Sure.”

In an instant, Rhys ran to him and threw his arms around the man, hugging him tightly. “Jack! That’d be wonderful! Then I could choose the paint I want!”

Jack’s arm went languidly around Rhys’ waist. Rhys squeezed him tightly, his excitement and gratitude overflowing. Until his right arm began to tingle and he gasped, launching himself away from Jack. The man watched him, brows raised in question.

Rhys held his right arm sheepishly. “Sorry…”

Jack nodded, understanding. “Don’t be.”

Rhys pushed the cart down the aisle, silent and a little withdrawn now. He couldn’t even hug Jack without his arm acting up. It meant he wouldn’t even be able to hug Vaughn. He wouldn’t be able to touch anyone normally without his arm being stupid. He leaned on the cart, resting his head in his hand as he watched Jack picked out more tools.

“How about these?” Jack asked. When Rhys shrugged, the man frowned, watching Rhys as he put them into the cart. They moved on to the end where an array of gloves hung on rungs. Jack gave a smug smile. “Ah, gloves, another important tool. Gotta choose these ones, I know you’ll think they’re boring, but they’re good and sturdy. This brand is the best.”

Rhys idly looked over the gloves, his eyes falling to the ones Jack picked and then all the colorful ones hanging up. He frowned as he saw some that were colorful from the exact brand. “Why not those?” he asked. “They’re the same brand.”

Jack shook his head. “Nah, those are inferior.”

Frowning deeper, Rhys went over and picked them up. “How? They’re almost the exact same as yours.”

“ _Almost_ , but not quite.”

“Jack, they’re double lined, they have all the same bells and whistles.”

“Mmm,” Jack hummed, unconvinced.

Rhys snatched the gloves from Jack and put them next to the patterned ones. He then held them close to Jack’s face. “Alright, you tell me what the differences are!”

Jack smirked. “The differences are as clear as day, cupcake.”

Rhys scoffed. “Well this one I’m not budging on!” He threw the colorful ones into the cart, and then he grabbed a pair of each of the other colored and patterned ones and tossing them in. He then threw the plain gloves at Jack.

The man laughed. “Oh, c’mon! Remember, plain and boring makes a good garden!”

Rhys glared at him down his nose before pushing the cart down the end of the aisle without a word. Jack followed along, placing the gloves in the cart. Rhys glared at it. “Don’t let those ugly things touch my beautiful ones.”

“Aww! That hurts, Rhysie! Ugly things deserve love too.”

He huffed. “No one said you were ugly.”

Jack bounced on either side of Rhys, grinning mischievously. “You did say I was boring, though.”

“Boring is not ugly.”

Jack stopped the cart, leaning into Rhys. “So, you think I’m attractive then?”

Rhys’ eyes widened as he realized Jack had been leading up to this. “Uh… I…” But his cheeks were hot and he knew they were red and a dead give away. He huffed and finally leaned in, resting his head in his hand and smiling, eyes sharp. “I’m not going to deny it Jack, but just because your sexy, doesn’t mean you can get away with being boring.”

Jack gave a toothy grin. “I thought we established I wasn’t boring?”

“I don’t remember that,” Rhys said thoughtfully.

“Oh yeah, cupcake, you were flustered and cute. It totally happened.”

Again, Rhys pretended to try and remember. “Mm, no, I think I’d remember when someone was flirting with me.” His lips curled into a smile.

“You want me to flirt with you, pumpkin? Cause I totally can, I can be everything you want me to be.”

Rhys stared at Jack, smile wide, eyes thoughtful. His finger tapped his chin as he looked into Jack’s sharp eyes. “I dunno, I don’t think we have the right chemistry to properly flirt.”

Jack scoffed. “Are you kidding me!? What do you think we’ve been doing this whole time!? We’ve got chemistry for eons!”

They heard a giggle from down the aisle that tore their eyes from each other to an older woman. Jack suddenly stood straight, eyes large for a moment before his face relaxed into annoyance. “Margaret.”

“Oh!” the older woman said. “Don’t mind me! I just can’t help but enjoy when two people are falling for each other!”

Rhys’ eyes widened and he stood, straight and stiff. “What?”

She went to Rhys and held her hand out. “You must be the new man that has the whole town a flutter!” 

Rhys held his left hand out for her to take. “I’m Rhys.”

She took it without missing a beat. “Margaret! I’ve lived here my whole life. Got to watch little Jack there grow up. He was quite the spitfire, much more than he is now.”

Rhys smirked. “I can imagine that.”

She nodded and stared at him for a long time, holding his hand in hers. Rhys was unsure what to do, but then she looked at Jack. “Very interesting, isn’t it?”

Jack frowned deeply. _“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”_  

“Of course not. You denied it with her, why not deny it with him, hmm?” Jack was silent, glaring. She smiled at Rhys. “Don’t mind me, I’m just an old busybody. But it was good to meet you, Rhys!” She squeezed his left hand and then left.

When she was well out of earshot, Rhys turned to Jack. “That was weird…”

He grunted and headed to the check out. Rhys followed and paid for everything except the plain gloves. Jack paid for them without a word and loaded everything into his truck. Jack did not start the car though, instead, he stared into the distance, jaws tight and irritated.

“Are you okay?” Rhys asked carefully.

“I don’t like people talking about her.”

“Right,” Rhys said, frowning in confusion.

“My ex-wife,” Jack grunted.

“You don’t have to talk about her if you don’t want to,” Rhys said quickly. “I didn’t mean for it to seem like…” He was quiet, unsure of what else to say.

A small smile pricked at Jack’s lips. “I know. She was Angel’s mother and we were supposed to be married for the rest of our lives, but when she found out that werewolves have mates and she wasn’t mine, she changed.” His hands fisted on his thighs. “She said she couldn’t chain me into a marriage when my mate might come by and steal me away from her.” He grunted. “I didn’t care about mates, but no matter how many times I told her this, she still left.”

“I’m so sorry, Jack,” Rhys said quietly.

He shrugged and turned the car on. “It doesn’t matter anymore. She’s gone and she’s not worth my time, not when she left Angel on my doorstep when she discovered Angel was a werewolf, too.”

“What!?” Rhys gasped. “Was she okay?”

Jack turned to Rhys and smiled warmly. “Yeah. She was bundled up tight. And her mother called until I answered so she knew Angel was okay, but she still left us.”

They pulled out of the hardware store. Rhys sighed. “That’s very sad.” He smiled. “You and Angel look extremely happy in all those pictures, though.”

Jack nodded. “We were. We are. Angel is my world.”

Rhys was happy Jack had someone like that, it seemed like the man needed it. As they drove in his truck, Rhys suddenly remembered the tools. “We forgot to get paint!”

“No, we didn’t.”

Glaring, Rhys looked at him. “You saying you forgot on purpose?”

That brought laughter from Jack, loud and amused. “If I wasn’t a man of my word, yes! I have all the paint we’ll need at home.”

When Jack opened the shed to reveal a whole wall top to bottom with all sorts of paints, Rhys could not believe his eyes. “Woah,” he said, stepping in and looking at all the bottles.

He smirked. “Yeah, Angel loves painting, so she got every type to experiment with.”

“Wow!” He found the wood paints and began to scoop all of them off the shelf.

“Woah, we’re not going to need all of them.” Jack went forward to stop him, but Rhys only set his handful in Jack’s arm and began to hand him more.

“I won’t know what colors I want and I can’t memorize what colors you have.”

With a heavy sigh, Jack moved to the wheelbarrow and dropped all the cans in it. He brought it over for Rhys to put the rest in.

* * *

It would take a few days for all the paint to dry. In the meantime Rhys worked with his little trowel while Jack worked on his own garden. Rhys was excited to work with his beautiful and personally painted tools that both he and Jack had designed. He smiled at the memory as he worked to replace the flowers Jack had peed on.

He was close to the forest and loved hearing all the birds sing to each other and fly around. It was a beautiful morning and he was enjoying sinking his bare hands in the dirt. He hummed a song to himself, as he scooped away soil and placed flowers in the holes.

“Your predecessors were beautiful and so are you, you’re going to like this spot and I promise you won’t get peed on.”

As he got to the last spot, his right arm felt strange. He frowned and looked at it. He still saw the wooden skin, but it was starting to glow now. He sat back and stared at it, watching the glow spread up his arm and to his shoulder. He watched it glow brighter before something began to move inside his arm. It sent shivers through his body and almost hurt as the something pushed down, down, down his arm and into his palm.

He gasped as his palm split open and this time, it hurt. A strangled scream caught in his throat as a small, white seed fell from the inside of his palm onto the dirt. His arm grew hot as the bark closed and his arm returned to normal.

He stared at his arm, touching it tentatively. It was perfectly normal, as if nothing had happened. He looked to where the seed had fallen. Rhys picked it up and looked at it. “Why, hello. I’ve had a stowaway this whole time, huh?” He smiled. “Well, you have a home here and I just so happen to have a hole ready for you!” He dropped the seed into the last hole and covered it. He then watered the whole line, making sure to put a marker where the seed was so he couldn’t lose it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My tumblr: http://nessiefromspace.tumblr.com/  
> My Borderlands/ fanart tumblr: https://nessiesspeakeasy.tumblr.com/  
> My old Borderlands tumblr: http://nessiefromink.tumblr.com/

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr: http://nessiefromspace.tumblr.com/  
> My Borderlands/ fanart tumblr: https://nessiesspeakeasy.tumblr.com/  
> My old Borderlands tumblr: http://nessiefromink.tumblr.com/


End file.
